baby doll, do you think they'll catch you when you fall
by charbrose
Summary: bayley slipped, easily, into the deepest parts of finn and she did the same to the demon {slow burn, finn and bayley featuring the demon in disconnected drabbles}


_a/n: so i've always wanted to write bayley and finn. them re-creating dirty dancing back at nxt is the cutest thing in the history of wrestling. i've never written the demon before and i don't know exactly how he "works" as in how he even appears or his "powers" or if he even has any, so yeah this is my interpretation of him. if you favorite, please review as well._

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 **~*~baby doll, do you believe they'll catch you when you fall~*~**

 **pairing: finn balor/bayley/the demon**

 **summary: bayley slipped, easily, into the deepest parts of finn and surprisingly she did the same to the demon {finn and bayley featuring the demon in disconnected drabbles}**

 **rating: t**

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 _[one]: there's a charade, there's a masquerade_

 _you're the cure, you're the pain_

He wonders when he [they] started noticing things about her; things that he [the demon, especially] wouldn't necessarily notice about anyone.

Before _every_ match, she face-times her dog, this little white ball of fluff; her doe eyes bright, smile a mile wide, hands flailing everywhere, before growing serious. She murmurs the same thing, before ending every call, " _wish mama luck, flex. she's gonna kick some butt just for you_." Then she makes kissing noises before disconnecting. Her cheeks flush pink if someone catches her, but when _his_ crystal blue eyes [briefly, they flash coal black, but she doesn't notice] meet her soft chocolate, the pink turns into a deeper dusty, soft rouge and spreads from her cheeks to the delicate slope of her neck.

Heat surges in his veins.

He can see a black claw, heavy and thick, nail as sharp as a knife and her caramel skin is stained bright red, blood flowing from the wound. He swallows, thickly, before he turns away.

 _take her_ is the mantra that beats in the back of his mind like a steady drum.

 **/**

 _[two]: you've made a liar out of me_

 _fading in, fading out/on the edge of paradise_

Japan was _his_ most fertile hunting ground, there were woods – where _monsuta_ were said to roam – and he could feed with impunity. Orlando was not such a place, however. He's _hungry_ , Finn can feel it – the desperation – pulsing underneath his veins, his blood running thick and heavy, his skin begging to be shed, his vision blurring at the edges more and more.

Even more so when he's with _her_.

They haven't taken that next step; he wants to preserve her, to keep her away from the monster inside, the one that's as desperate for her as he is. She's innocence personified; her eyes as wide and open as a newborn foal seeing the world for the first time. She's a trembling mess in his arms, able to fall apart – so beautiful, whimpering and moaning, nonsense tumbling from her lips as she arches and writhes – with just an expert touch of his fingers or a slow lick from his tongue.

He's crafted the persona of a gentleman; his hand always on the small of her back, he makes sure to open any and every door for her, liking how she peers at him from behind velvet lashes, murmuring "i didn't know guys still did _that_ , um, opened doors for girls and stuff," he kisses her hand when he picks her up for dates, lips ghosting across her knuckles and she blushes – a shade only he inspires – he never expects anything, let's her set the pace even though its getting harderharderharder _harder_ every time.

It's there again – _take her, take her, take her, take her TAKE HER_ – the beat of the drum getting louder and louder.

 **/**

 _[three]: freesia and raspberry_

 _you're the only thing i wanna touch/never knew it could mean so much, so much_

She smells like freesia and raspberry, a realization Finn doesn't come to, but _he_ [the demon] does. The demon doesn't know when he first noticed or more importantly _why_ – he's not even sure if it's a smell he prefers, his nose used to the burnt ash a raging flame leaves behind, thick and bitter in the air, not warm and sweet like her scent.

He notices she carries it [freesia and raspberries] with her wherever she goes; it's in her clothes, even her ring gear, lingering amongst the thick, shiny curtain of her dark hair, along the lines of her skin and bones. He _always_ knows when she's there by the faint scent of freesia and raspberry in the air.

Even at this moment, he could smell it. He's close – barely keeping himself hidden – as her scent weaves around _them_ , her and Balor`. He's never been jealous of the man, even when he had taken lovers, but none of those women were _her_. Bay-lee. He tests the name on his tongue, rolling the letters in their unfamiliar language, back and forth. He knows she'd taste much better on his tongue.

Freesia and raspberry overwhelm him, nearly swallowing him whole, enticing him closer to her. The demon sees the images flickering past, enveloping him in a deep fog, heat coloring his every thought. Balor`'s fingers aren't touching her cheek, his thick black claws are. His claw tightens, nearly scratching but finding the strength to hold back, and then _he's_ kissing her.

A deep kiss, passionate and strong, so strong it went beyond scent. He was certain, he was sure. Doing things with her, he'd _never_ even fathom doing with another woman.

[moments, later, the reality sets in. there's balor` tangled in her sheets, which are warm, freesia and raspberry in the air. the demon closes his eyes, hunger – insatiable – lapping at the pit of his stomach and burning inside his veins and he growls knowing he'll dream of her again.]

 **/**

 _[four]: darling, don't you dare run (there's a storm coming)_

 _you're the light, you're the night/you're the color of my blood_

Finn can't hide _him_ forever.

Despite not saying so he _knows_ she's seen his eyes flash black, seen his posture change, felt the roughness of _his_ skin against her seeking fingertips. He [they] find her somewhere unfamiliar, a dive on the furthest end of town, barely within the city limits. The bitter density of alcohol hanging in the air, it's on everyone except – of course – her.

She stands out here; amongst the women in their frayed denim minis, skin tight leather and cleavage baring bustiers. Her caramel skin glowing naturally under the horrible flourescent lighting, her hair dark and shimmering, falling in a curtain to the small of her back. Her toned legs are bare, but the hem of her black skirt reaches her knees and the espadrille sandals on her feet are a sensible height.

Without hesitation they approach her. "Is this seat taken?"

Her lithe frame tenses, briefly. Slowly, she turns and the yellow of her off the shoulder top is breathtaking against the caramel of her skin, and _that's_ what brought them here in the first place. She shrinks, his eyes having flashed – briefly – and then she shudders, the movement rolling through her entire body. There's a growl, somehow, Finn holds back, but he can't fight those three words that have haunted him since _he_ first saw her.

 _take her. take her. take her._

"Don't run, leannan`." Behind the softness of his voice there's something deeper and headier, making her swallow thickly as she takes a tentative step toward him. "Are _you_ telling me not to, Finn?" She challenges, braver than she should be.

" _We_ ," He admits and coal black over takes crystal-water blue, ever so briefly. "Are. Not that there's anywhere you _could_ run." "Is that so?" He shakes his head. She's being foolhardy, feeling emboldened somehow. His posture changes, almost instantly. His shoulders taut, his back ramrod straight and he glides a claw along the pulse point of her wrist. "If you tried to run, you would end up on the losing end, maite`."

They see another shudder roll through her lithe frame, her doe eyes just a fraction wider before they turn into pools of melted chocolate, pure lust inside her irises. They can feel her pulse thrumming wildly, her blood running hot and thick inside of her veins. They'll make her believe they'll go to the ends of the earth for her.

Even if she _wanted_ to run, she couldn't.

And so, she doesn't.

 **/**

 _[five]: you're the fear, i don't care_

 _cause i've never been so high/ follow me to the dark_

 _He's_ never been touched like _this_ , with reverence; a gentleness behind every exploratory caress of her delicate hands and curious fingertips. She should be cowering in fear, shrinking away, repulsed by the rough black scales that linger along his skin, protecting his bones; making him impenetrable.

But she's doing none of those things.

She's touching _him_ like she touches Balor`.

For the first time his very nature is a hindrance, he doesn't know how to do the same to her. To touch her without breaking her fragile bones, to want her without the piercing of her silken skin, to love her without feeding on the very thing that keeps her alive.

"Maite`," He growls and when his lips, heavy and firm take possession of hers, he slips away a heartbeat later, letting Balor` take hold because he can love her the way she deserves.

 **/**

 _[six]: only you can set my heart on fire_

 _every inch of your skin is the holy grail i've got to find_

Finn will never get enough of _this_ ; Bayley underneath him, writhing and moaning, short nails painted bright and clutching at his shoulders, desperate to keep him between her thighs. He's mapped her every inch with his teeth, tongue, lips and fingers. There's no part of her he hasn't memorized and still each night, he touches her as if he never has, as if he hasn't committed all of her to memory.

" _Finn_ ," A breathless keen as he laps at her sex, coaxing her down from her high.

Teeth nip at the inside of her thighs as her legs slide down his back, their grip finally loosening.

He swears if he could crawl inside of her, he would. He doesn't know how she slipped past every defense he built up since he left the pubs and rolling hills of his home for the dojo's of Japan.

"Again?" A sigh falling off her thoroughly bruised lips, which resemble crushed petals. He chuckles, low, in his throat – black overtaking blue for one breathless moment – but shakes his head. "Not again, leannan`. Just want to touch."

And that's exactly what he does. His teeth bite and nip, his tongue laves over the bites, and his lips soothe the bites until finally he's drawn her into a heady, passionate kiss; their teeth clashing, their tongues tangling and their lips moving in perfect synch.

 **/**

 _[seven]: my head's spinning around i can't see clear no more_

 _you can see the world you brought to life_

The demon likes seeing the world through her eyes. He's shadows and darkness, slinking through the inky black night like a phantom, only seen when _he_ wants to be. He's fear made physical, a manifestation of nightmares, living and breathing for the pain of those weaker than him.

She's bright, almost painfully so. She's every color there's ever been, somehow, this perfect mix of blues and greens, purples and pinks, yellows and reds.

Her smile never fades when he takes over. She giggles, every time, she touches his claws, making his head quirk because she's touched him before, and he is definitely not something who should be laughed at. When he tells her so, she giggles more and taunts, insisting, "you don't scare me."

He _should_ and he tells her so, but she remains undeterred.

On more than one occasion, she's _asked_ for him and he learned quickly, she won't stop doing so until he appears. She isn't summoning him for a sacrifice, for something sinister, for him to strike fear into her fiercest enemies, ect.

No, she's summoning him because she _wants_ to.

 **/**

 _[eight]: i'll carry your world_

 _so love me like you do, la-la-love me like you do_

 _love me like you do, la-la-love me like you do_

 _touch me like you do, ta-ta-touch me like you do_

The same night she debuts is the night he relinquishes the Universal Title. The heights he reached were so high and then he came tumbling down, crashing and burning, dressed in a suit, his shoulder in a sling, Mick's heavy lidded deep eyes filled with nothing but pity as he takes the tile for himself.

He expects an empty locker room, instead she's there.

His signature Balor` Club jacket covers her colorful purple gear, the collar flipped up just like he would have done. He laughs, softly, shaking his head; remembering how she had cheered him up when they were both down at NXT. He had a bum ankle and she made it her personal mission to get him to smile, going so far as to create his entrance at a live event.

He remembers doing the same for her; the purple _I'M A HUGGER SHIRT_ stretching tight over his chest, the streamers hanging from his arm bands and the _BAYLEY_ headband around his head.

"Thank you," Drawing her into a warm kiss. "Leannan`."

Then his eyes go coal black and there's a growl against her neck, "Maite`."

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 **[end]**

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 _note: leannan is irish for lover and maite is irish for mate as in a wolf's mate or in this case a demon's lol. /the lyrics used throughout are from the song "love me like you do" by ellie goulding_


End file.
